Potential Reached
by smolder
Summary: "She has Potential her mother had once whispered – those silver eyes, identical to her own, solemn and impossibly deep with pain and secrets; secrets Luna knew never to ask about."
1. Prologue: Part 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling & BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Somewhat graphic cannon character death.  
A/N: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

**Prologue: Part 1**

She is an early bloomer, as these sorts of things go, she learns later. But that is hardly important to her because even at eleven she can feel the changing times like tide rising and a part of her always knew this day would come. Has been aware that she is different from even the other magical children her age on a very fundamental level – of what she can hear, see, and feel. Has been _feeling_ so much for so long.

She has _Potential_ her mother had once whispered years ago – those silver eyes, identical to her own, solemn and impossibly deep with pain and secrets; secrets Luna always knew _never_ to ask about. Knew sometimes history was just spilt blood (_it's always about the blood_) and the sting of the past never truly forgotten - and to live at all was to pretend. Pretend to forget. Pretend it didn't hurt to smile and laugh. Pretend so hard until the world bent around you, cocooned in lies repeated so many times they feel like truth on the tongue.

Because they both had played this game, would smile bright and laugh too loud. Because back then, as the mother tucked in her little girl they knew what the night would bring – what it brought every night.

Dreams, nightmares really. Women, girls truly. Living but mostly dying. And always fighting.

Death was their gift. And Luna watched them give it night after night as she grew.

But she grew too comfortable perhaps, got over her fear and developed a fascination and sort of imaginary friendship with certain girls. Luna, did not expect the Powers next move to be so cruel. With her nights full of Death they decided to take her day. And she had not prepared herself for them to drive the point of her destiny home by having her Mother slip away in her arms when she was nine years old. A simple accident while experimenting with the Floo (for the Mother had gotten complacent too, become trusting of this wand magic that never quite fit right with the bit of wildness buried within her) while she was forced to watch, so utterly helpless.

And Luna did not understand then. How could this be her Gift? How could this be anyone's Gift?

Their eyes connected and with half of the face she knew far better than her own burnt she could still easily read from the eyes how scared and desperate her mother was, Mommy so strong and smart who always held her – who always smiled and sang whenever she was frightened. Luna held her hand and started to sing for her now, hoping so hard it would help.

But that coldness reached for her anyway, she could see the panic in that gaze, and although Mommy was fighting it as hard as she could. (_Oh, please. Please. Please. No, not Mommy._) Her hand slackened in Luna's grip.

And this was a fight they couldn't win.

Luna stopped singing, closed her eyes and very carefully laid down, cuddling against her mother's body, ignoring the blood and smell of burnt flesh. As she lay there in the stillness it was not silent, at least not within her head. For the Powers might take but the women would shelter their own – as well they could – to lessen the blow to this child, that was destined to receive so many more. And all of those of whom she dreamt rose up before her mind's eye.

So many, some hollow eyed and still covered in blood from their last stands, placed their hands upon her. And although there was sadness, anger at the world, and a wish to comfort one faced with loss so young, in each touch….there was a feeling of heavy inevitability. This was always going to happen. There was no escaping it.

Death.

It had been in her Mother's blood. It was in hers as well.

And with each touch in her mind, and each hour that went by as they stayed with her as she lay there long after her Mother's body had started to cool Luna began to feel understanding seep into her. She would not hide from it as her Mother had, would not fight this precious blood passed down – now spread out like a rain puddle surrounding them on the floor, soaking through her clothing. If Death was the inevitability either way, she would be as she was. Wholly. If her Potential became more, if she was Chosen, she would use that Gift.

Death was inescapable, those voices resonated more by the very magnitude of their presence than any actual words. But…it was their Gift. And again she saw flashes of them fighting – horrible horrible things and had the understanding in her mind of the stakes they were up against. The always present Dark, The Evil.

Death was their Gift. And they would _always die_ but they would go in a blaze, a clash of steal so sharp and bright, they would go happily with eye's wide open and a feral smile if they knew they would take down their Evil with them. Keep the balance tilted safely on the side of Light.

Slowly, slowly Luna began to understand.

Began to accept this Gift, this Death.


	2. Prologue: Part 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling & BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Somewhat graphic cannon character death.  
A/N: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

**Prologue: Part 2**

It was three hours later that Xeno Lovegood walked through the door to his home from a normal day at his paper and into a very changed life.

"Death took her, Daddy," Luna whispered when he just stared, frozen, at the macabre scene in front of the fire place and he jumps a bit at the sound. Before she had spoken he had been afraid both bodies lying on the floor where dead, that he had lost his whole world today. "Snatched her away. No, that's not right," she corrected herself, sitting up she looked at him but his eyes caught on the dried blood all across the right side of her face, all over her clothing as well – his _wife's blood_. "Mommy fought it, it _hurt_ her," she continued, still whispering her voice sounding hoarse. "Mommy was fighting so hard, I couldn't leave her alone with It…I couldn't…." she trailed off. But he was enthralled by the blood. There was too much of it (it was all over Luna), surely it couldn't be real. That wasn't his wife on the ground, his lovely strong Selene. She couldn't be, couldn't be….

"_Daddy_…...," Luna said more a plea than a word and instantly his attention went to her – this was real, horrifyingly real, and his little girl needed him (_and he needed her_). He walked over and picked her up off the floor, out of the puddle of congealed blood, and pulled her into his arms, turning his back to the body. He couldn't be as brave as his daughter right now, couldn't look at her (right behind them) and keep anywhere near sane, he just couldn't.

"I know," he petted her hair, swallowing hard as his fingers caught on the matted bits.

"_Daddy_," she cried again, this time it was caught in a sob. And he closed his eyes and just held her closer.

"I know," he choked, and they held each other and they cried. Because even when Death is known, when it is prepared for and expected – it is still hard, still wrenching and painful. And Xeno _had_ expected this, perhaps not today and perhaps not like _this_ but he knew that every day since he met her (_He, fresh out of Hogwarts, hunting down a lead on some group called "Watchers" for the Quibbler and she at the Council Headquarters with her current Watcher - the latest in a line that she had been handed off to since she was taken as a child - and wanting desperately to escape their grip, wanting a life._

_She had told him everything, Selene knew she shouldn't but she did anyway; she was just so tired. He had been horrified and to her surprise offered the chance to run and to her even greater surprise she had taken it. He had hidden her then, incredibly well. Even after she had seen him do his type of magic she hadn't believed at first that this would ever work. But paranoia of authority was ingrained amongst the Lovegoods for generations and for her he bumped it up even higher; under Xeno's wards she would never be found._

_As months went by they figured out that with her magical core Selene could use a wand and with such a wand procured on the sly from a distant family member who just happened to be a renowned wand maker, his old textbooks, and infinite patience, he taught her how. Along with all of the other little things she would need to pass as a normal witch in the Wizarding World._

_Friendship had come almost the moment an eccentrically dressed young man with slightly crossed eyes flopped down on a park bench next to a beautiful ash blonde young woman and smiled disarmingly. He asked to interview her and she bit her lip for a moment, looking at him through her lashes, before taking a deep breathe, pulling her shoulders back and saying 'yes'._

_Love – well, love, their awareness to it anyway, had come slowly. But by the time it did they were already best friends and so essential to each other, that it didn't seem that new, that scary a step. It seemed more obvious than anything else; who else would have been so perfect for them?) _had been borrowed time.

Borrowed time that was now over it seemed.

He bit his lip and held his daughter tighter (and tried not to think - at least not in this moment - of his daughters similar future).


End file.
